


Life We Chose

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Implied Relationships, M/M, Magical Realism, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Season 8 Doesn't Exist, Season/Series 07, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 20:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: Not too far out from the Kerberos launch, Shiro finds an unexpected guest waiting outside his quarters, both familiar and unfamiliar.





	Life We Chose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Resph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resph/gifts).



> Fic request from [Resph](https://twitter.com/R3sph); I got the choice of two time-travel plots and it was IMPOSSIBLE to pick, let me tell you (and I fully intend on doing the second one eventually someday lmao). Here's the prompt I chose: Pre-Kerb!Shiro meeting post-S7!Keith. Thank you so much for this prompt! I had such a blast writing this. 
> 
> Instead of wasting time trying to explain time travel, I just decided Keith wouldn't care and would just want to hang out with Shiro. Just roll with it, fam.

Shiro turns the corner of the garrison hallway, heading towards his quarters. His footsteps are purposeful. He’s spent three too many evenings this week turning towards his old living quarters without thinking— the one he shared with Adam. He at least didn’t do it tonight and it should be a cause for celebration, but it just feels like another definitive end, another something he’s closed and put away about himself. Another thing he ruined for his own desires. 

His thoughts are moodier than usual, but he can play the breakup card all he wants. He’s halfway thinking about turning around and looking to find Keith, to see if he wants to sneak out past curfew and race hoverbikes (he knows it’s a bad move, knows if Keith is caught he’ll be in trouble, and Shiro can’t afford to make mistakes this close to the mission— but still, his body itches for the feel of sand blasting around them, the wind in his hair). 

He turns the corner— and Keith is already there. 

“Hey, Keith,” he calls out, smiling, and watches Keith tense and then turn his head.

Three things hit Shiro in quick succession: the first, that Keith has a scar on his cheek. The second, he’s taller than he should be. The third, and most devastating, he’s _bigger_ than he should be. 

Shiro nearly drops the paperwork he has tucked under one arm. “Keith?”

He watches Keith’s expression shift from quiet observation to something much gentler. He knows that look— Keith gives it to him all the time. It looks different on this face— older, surer. Open rather than guarded, like he doesn’t care that Shiro can see and identify such a look. 

“Shiro,” Keith says and his voice is deeper than it should be. 

Shiro can’t reconcile this Keith at all. He can’t even fathom that it’s _Keith_. Keith, his best friend, the scrawny little upstart who laughs loudly at Shiro’s stupid jokes, who’s always ready for a fight, always spitting mad and ready to cut ties before anyone can hurt him. Keith, who smiles so rarely and usually only at Shiro. Keith, who nearly chased Adam down when Adam spotted them at the end of the hall and left without a word, without even looking Shiro in the eye (because that was the only thing Keith could think to do, because Keith is overprotective sometimes, because Keith only wants Shiro to be happy). Keith. 

This Keith steps to him and sways easily into his space. Keith, for all his loyalty and adventure, doesn’t often get this close to Shiro. Not like this. There’s always a slight distance. Keith is always waiting for things to end. 

This Keith touches his cheek like it’s easy, thumb touching at the line of his jaw. Shiro hears the dull thud of his paperwork falling out of his hold. It’s fine; it has one of those heavy-duty clips to hold all the paper together. Keith chuckles and then he steps closer to pull Shiro into a hug. He’s not nearly as short as he should be, but Keith still tucks into his space, bumping the crown of his head against the bottom of Shiro’s chin. He can feel Keith’s smile against his throat, the easy, simple way Keith curls his arms around Shiro’s waist and holds. 

Shiro doesn’t hesitate to hug him back, arms draped over Keith’s shoulder and holding him close. He feels like Keith, if taller and wider. His hair smells like Keith’s, little hairs tickling his nose. He knows that chuckle. 

“Hey, Buddy,” Shiro says, somewhat helpless, not sure what else to say, unsure how to broach the topic of Keith’s sudden and impossible growth spurt. He feels, all things considered, entirely too flustered. His cheeks turn pink as his hands rest on Keith’s wide shoulders. He doesn’t pull back and Keith makes no move to draw away, either, his breath damp at Shiro’s neck. 

“Shiro.” Keith squeezes him and murmurs, “I forgot how young you looked. How young you _are_.”

An odd thing to say and Shiro blushes more. 

“Hey,” he says, softer this time, his hands cupping his shoulders. “Thought I was supposed to be an old-timer?” Keith laughs. Shiro feels warm. He asks, “You alright?”

“Mm,” Keith affirms, and does finally draw back to look at his face. 

It’s an intense stare, but Keith’s always been intense. This time, though, Shiro feels vulnerable in a way he usually doesn’t, feels utterly exposed under the penetrating, open stare Keith pins him with. 

“I’m alright,” Keith says, and then he smiles. 

It’s a smile Shiro’s never seen on Keith’s face before— something open and secure, calm in a way that Keith isn’t. Keith is all limbs and fight, all determination to prove everyone and everything wrong, sometimes even Shiro. He’s gentler with Shiro, but only just. This smile arrests him, the way it crinkles the corners of Keith’s eyes, the way his entire face lights up and softens at once, into something sweet and almost melancholy. 

Keith reaches out and takes Shiro’s hand. It doesn’t occur to Shiro, at any point, to resist Keith’s touch. It doesn’t occur to Shiro to consider this isn’t even Keith. It never crosses his mind— he would know Keith anywhere. He’d know Keith in the dark. He'd know Keith across time, across years. He’d know Keith like his shadow. Always there. Always known. 

Keith opens Shiro’s door and tugs him inside. Keith smiles, something like nostalgia in his eyes as he looks around.

“Keith,” Shiro begins but isn’t sure what to say. 

Turning back towards him, Keith shakes his head, his eyes sweeping over Shiro. He feels exposed again as Keith’s eyes drag over him, from his head down to his feet, and back up again. His hand lingers in Shiro’s, and then lets go. 

“I could explain how I’ve arrived here,” Keith says, “But I don’t fully understand it. I just know it won’t last long. It’s temporary. If I start to fade, don’t freak out. That’s supposed to happen.” He steps closer to Shiro again, lifting his hand to touch Shiro’s hair now, brushing back his bangs. He studies his face, fingers tangled in his forelock. 

Shiro gives him a lopsided smile. “Am I that interesting to look at?” 

Keith chuckles, and it’s a soft sound that lances through Shiro, leaves the tips of his ears burning pink. It isn’t right he should be reacting like this to Keith— Keith is his _friend._

His hair looks so soft, falling longer than it should, framing his face. 

Keith’s hand brushes through Shiro’s hair, traces down his face, nails scratching lightly at his undercut. He rests his hand at his shoulder. 

“I’m from the future, Shiro,” Keith says, like that isn’t going to be the most amazing thing Shiro’s ever heard. 

“That explains the uniform,” Shiro agrees, eyes glancing down at the red and white jacket. He thinks maybe he should be more surprised, but Keith’s level of calm soothes him in turn. It isn’t a big deal. This is just another day, apparently. Maybe Keith travels across time now. 

Keith quirks a smile. “You have no idea.” 

Maybe he should be concerned. Maybe he should be terrified. But he isn’t. Shiro’s only ever felt safe with Keith. If this Keith says he’s his friend, if this Keith says he’s from the future— then that’s the truth. Shiro will never question him. 

Keith tugs Shiro forward, encouraging him to sit down at the couch lined up against the wall. Keith settles on the spot just beside Shiro, hovering close. 

“It’s so strange to see you like this,” Shiro says because he doesn’t know what else to say, doesn’t know how else to articulate what it means to see Keith like this— calm and handsome and grown. 

“Do I look so different?” Keith asks, and there’s something sparking in his eyes, hinting that easy smile. That’s perhaps the strangest of all— how peaceful Keith seems, how confidently he holds himself. It’s less the confidence of someone cornered and striving to prove everyone else wrong, but rather a steady reassurance, knowing concretely that he is worth it. 

It’s all Shiro ever wanted for Keith. 

“You look…” Shiro begins and trails off with a nervous laugh. He shakes his head, looking down into his lap, hands clenching together. His smile is light, almost teasing, when he glances up at Keith again and finds Keith looking at him, steady and unwavering. “You look really good, Keith.” 

Keith’s smile quirks up, relieved. “Thanks, Shiro. You look good, too.” Keith looks around the room after a moment, cursory. He continues, “I wasn’t sure if I’d find you here or not. I wasn’t sure what the exact date was.” 

Shiro looks around and laughs. “Yeah. Only just moved in. I, uh… Well. You know. Adam.” 

He shrugs, like it doesn’t mean anything. He knows it won’t fool Keith— it hardly fooled his Keith, after all. Indeed, Keith studies him for a moment, sympathetic. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith finally says. 

“You always hated him, anyway,” Shiro says and laughs. He looks down at his hands, clenching and unclenching together in his lap. 

“Maybe,” Keith answers, but Shiro can hear the little smile in his voice, unapologetic and blatant. He’s always liked that about Keith, though— how blunt he can be. So many people view Keith as an unrefined, jagged edge. Shiro’s only ever seen him as sharp, quick and clear in his intentions. 

Shiro looks around again. Looking anywhere but at Keith, really. 

“So Kerberos must be soon,” Keith says, voice quiet.

Shiro glances back at him. Keith’s finally looked away from Shiro, looking around the room, too. He looks faraway suddenly, like he’s about to disappear. Maybe he’s actually fading, a consequence of whatever time-traveling nonsense Keith said. 

Up close, he realizes Keith isn’t as calm as he appears. There’s a slight tremble to his hands. There’s a tension in his eyes that he’s trying to hide, to swallow back down. 

That, perhaps, is the most terrifying. 

He doesn’t really think about it when he reaches out and touches Keith’s arm. He doesn’t let go even as Keith glances at him, a sad smile curling his lip up. 

“Yeah,” Shiro answers when their eyes meet. He studies Keith closely, as closely as Keith’s been studying him. “It’s soon.”

Keith nods. The smile stays sad, curls the corner of Keith’s mouth, and something like fear twists in Shiro’s gut again. The anxiety bubbles, pushing against the back of his throat but refusing to manifest. He refuses to speak it. To ask it. 

“What’s wrong?” Keith asks, because of course he notices and of course he asks. It’s a gentle question, though, one that Shiro knows he could dismiss away and Keith wouldn’t press. He never has. 

Isn’t that how Keith has always been, though? _What are you going to do?_ Keith asked him recently, and he was the first person to ever do that for him. He never bothered to tell Keith what that meant, assuming (fearing) that Keith would understand. 

Shiro shakes his head. “Sorry. Just… you know.” 

Keith hums. He looks at Shiro’s hand on his arm and lifts his own hand, covering Shiro’s. Their fingers thread together. It’s the most intimate gesture that Keith has ever given him, other than his trust and support, his friendship, and Shiro shivers. 

“So,” Shiro says, deciding to just come out and ask it. He doesn’t know yet if he wants to know the answer, but he can’t just sit on it. “Am I still— around?” 

The way Keith keeps looking at him— like he can’t believe it’s him, like he can’t get enough of him. He must be gone by now. 

But Keith shakes his head and squeezes his hand. He unthreads their fingers only so he can drag fingertips down to trace the lines of Shiro’s tendons, stopping just at the line of his electrostimulation bracelet. 

“You’re still here, Shiro,” Keith tells him. “You were just recently promoted to admiral.”

“Ah,” Shiro says, quiet. His lips thin out. Admirals don’t pilot. He must be depleted enough by now that he can’t get to space. Escape velocity would be too powerful against his brittle body. That’s almost worse than thinking he’s outright dead. 

“Everything you’re thinking right now isn’t true,” Keith tells him. Shiro’s almost annoyed at how well this Keith knows him, how well he sees through him. He feels too exposed. 

“Well,” Shiro says, which isn’t a response, but he’s not sure if he wants to press down on this. He stares at the floor. He takes a deep breath after a moment and turns to Keith, meeting his eyes. “Guess Kerberos goes well.” 

Keith has a hideous poker face. Something flickers in his eyes that he doesn’t elaborate. That’s always been true of Keith. How easily he wears his heart on his sleeve, how easy he is to read. People just take so little time to do that, to understand him. They spend so much time deciding what Keith is. Maybe Keith isn’t aware of how fully his expression ripples and changes with his thoughts. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Shiro says, not just out of sympathy to whatever Keith’s hiding, but his own self-preservation. 

He isn’t sure how time travel works but probably knowing his future is a bad idea. And he isn’t sure if he wants to know. He doesn’t know if knowing would change anything—

“God, Shiro,” Keith whispers, something cracking in his eyes. Not so calm as he appears. Shiro can really see the tremble of his body now. “There’s so much I want to say. So much I want to tell you. I— I really—”

He fumbles. He looks so uncertain. 

Shiro reaches out and tugs Keith in, curling his arms around him. He hugs him and refuses to let go. Keith breathes out shakily and then slumps into him, burying his face against his shoulder. Shiro’s heart thunders. 

“It’s okay, Keith.”

“You’re excited,” Keith answers, and Shiro doesn’t know how to place the words.

No sense in lying, though. He nods. “I’m excited,” Shiro says, looking at the far wall. “It’s everything I ever wanted. It’s— everything for me.” 

He thinks of his break-up with Adam, the awkward tension that still lingers between them whenever their eyes meet. They never really said goodbye. They never really discussed it. Shiro just returned to their room and packed his things. Adam wasn’t even there to witness it. He probably came home that night to an empty living quarters and accepted that as their reality now. Shiro’s never been afraid to cut ties, to move away— that’s been his reality for much of his life, a transience, a lack of permanence. Kerberos also feels like a fleeting dream. 

“But,” Shiro continues, fidgeting. “Maybe part of me is—”

He pauses, unsure how to phrase it. Unsure why he’s telling Keith now. Keith is a steady presence in his arms. He isn’t sure yet if he’d say this to the Keith he knows, the Keith who’s likely sleeping away in his quarters, unaware of this Keith sitting before him. Maybe it’s because this feels like a dream, or something also impermanent.

“— is afraid that Adam’s right. I’m a liability.”

Keith jerks away from the hug to look up at him. Keith’s expression flickers and darkens, frowning. It’s an expression Shiro is familiar with on his own Keith’s face. It looks the same here, even if the face is older. Frustration on Shiro’s behalf, unyielding loyalty. He doesn’t know what he’s ever done to deserve this steadfast loyalty. 

“Someone once told me,” Keith presses, “The most important thing is to not give up on yourself.” He glances up at Shiro, and his frown upturns into a hesitant smile. “Right?” 

Shiro laughs, surprised. “You still remember that, huh?” 

Something shines in Keith’s eyes as he replies, quiet, “You have no idea what’s stuck with me, Shiro.” 

They sit in a long silence and Shiro wonders if it will stay like that. Keith looks faded at the edges. Maybe all of this is a dream. 

“Shiro,” Keith says, quietly, and takes Shiro’s hands in his. He threads their fingers together again and holds fast. “You’re going to do amazing things. I promise. You’re going to be so amazing and change so many lives. You’re going to change the world. The universe.” 

Shiro can’t help the shiver that spikes through him, bowing beneath the intensity in Keith’s gaze and yet still wishing to resist. He opens his mouth to answer but no words come. Keith squeezes his hands, his grip tight. 

“You’re going to be amazing,” Keith says again, fond and full of longing. “Maybe that’s why I was brought here. Remember this. You’re going to be _amazing_.”

“Keith,” Shiro whispers. 

“And—”

Keith chokes off a little laugh, and this time Keith can’t mistake the tears in his eyes, the way his entire face opens when he looks at Shiro— vulnerable, longing, and _here_. Shiro fumbles and lifts his hand to cup Keith’s cheek before he can question it, palm pressing to that scar. It’s oddly smooth beneath his palm. 

Keith settles and laughs, softly, before leaning into that touch. 

“And I promise you that I’ll be here when you get back.”

Shiro sucks in a deep breath, something easing in his chest. A reassurance. A promise. He wants to believe it, more than anything else. Keith must see it, because he leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. Shiro bites his lip, unsure how to respond to the intensity, to what Keith offers. 

“I promise,” Keith whispers. 

“Yeah.” 

“You can trust me,” Keith tells him. “With anything.”

And Shiro does know, even if he wants to rebel against the notion— the idea that anyone could truly understand, that anybody would truly stay for as long as it took. The fear of giving that power to someone. 

Keith smiles at him, soft and understanding. Because of course he understands. 

He touches Shiro’s face again, thumb tracing over his cheek. “You’re my world, Shiro. Don’t forget that, okay?”

Shiro goes breathless, eyes wide. Keith chuckles, self-conscious, his cheeks turning pink. Embarrassed. It’s charming. He’s handsome. 

“I know you don’t feel that way about me yet,” Keith tells him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” 

Keith smiles and says something else, words Shiro never thought he’d hear again— no sound comes out, but he knows the shape of the sentiment. Shiro goes breathless. He reaches out to Keith, to touch him. But Keith’s already faded away. 

He’s there and then he’s gone— a whisper, a shadow, a ghost. Shiro wonders if he was ever really there at all. 

The next day, Shiro doesn’t know if it was a dream. He finds his Keith, looking his usual scrawny self, hair in his eyes, moody as he stares at everybody else. But his face lights up when he turns and sees Shiro. Shiro marvels at how he’s never really noticed before how gentle Keith’s entire face gets like this. 

He can’t help the answering smile, the tension that eases from his shoulders. “Hey, Keith.” 

_I promise I’ll be here when you get back,_ Keith told him. 

“Hey, old timer.” Keith grins, looking so very proud of himself. Something inside Shiro’s chest aches and then expands, blooming. 

“You free right now?” Shiro asks, hooking his arm around Keith’s shoulders. “Want to go racing?” 

_I love you,_ Keith told him as he faded away. Looking at his Keith now, grinning up at him— Shiro lets himself believe it. 

“Yeah, sure,” Keith agrees, his eyes bright as he looks at Shiro.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

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**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [you can always find me here (the coming home remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19129270) by [perfectlyrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/pseuds/perfectlyrose)




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